Old Habits
by Beauty'sBeast
Summary: They were childhood sweethearts. But they were slipping through the cracks of each other's fingers like sand. And as Hermione watched her once beloved friend walk away, along with her heart, she couldn't help but think things would never be the same again. What happens when towards the end of their school years, something re-sparks the memories of seven years ago? Rated M, DM/HG.
1. Introductions

**Reunited; Chapter One.**

Introductions.

* * *

Diagon Alley was a curious place. Draco Malfoy had visited once or twice with his parents before receiving his letter for Hogwarts, but during the weeks before term started, it was rather a peculiar place to be. He and his parents walked through the heaving crowd that lined the streets, with a heavy hand of his father's lingering on his shoulder. Draco eyed the black, leather glove sat reassuringly beside his neck, as he was guided through the mass of people. Many of them turned to glance at the trio, and whispered behind hovering hands. The young Malfoy looked away from his father's hand, and noticed a large group of red-heads staring in particular. There were; two tall, lanky boys, completely identical, a small, squat woman stood beside a disheveled looking gentlemen, another female youngster, who seemed to be glaring at Draco and his family the most enthusiastically, and another boy who was conversing to a similar boy with dark, black, messy hair and round glasses. The two younger boys both looked about Draco's age. He felt the guided hand on his shoulder steer towards the cluster of freckle faced, fiery haired people, as they all turned to look in the direction he and his parents were coming from.

"Ah, if it isn't the Weasely family," Draco's father commented, as the eldest red-head smiled awkwardly, "And friend?"

Draco glanced towards the dark haired boy. His glasses were slightly wonky, and his clothes far too big for his deprived looking body. Overall, his shabby attire fitted in quite well with the Weasley's, a name which Draco had just learnt and found great amusement in, if only he had that ridiculously bright hair.

"Yes, Lucius," the man replied, "This is Harry."

The stiff grasp Mr Malfoy had on his son's shoulder tightened noticeably. Draco pretended not to notice, and merely eyed the dark haired wizard with distaste.

"Arthur, you do not mean to tell me this is Harry Potter, do you?" Lucius's voice was rather more hollow and cold.

Being so used to his father's influence of tone, Draco knew that this was not sitting well with his superior. _Harry Potter, _he thought. Yes, that name definitely rang a bell in the back of his mind.

"Yes, yes," Arthur Weasley stuttered, "This is Harry. Harry Potter. He is a good friend of Ron's."

"Lucius Malfoy," Draco's father announced, holding out his gloved hand towards Harry, "My wife, Narcissa, and my son, Draco."

Momentarily, Harry's emerald eyes shifted to Draco, who gave a hint of a scowl in return. The boy looked back to the awaiting hand lingering in front of him. Harry took the mans hand firmly in his, which Draco noticed to be rather dirty and felt a strong feeling of distaste for the infamous boy before him. As the two were about to break contact, Draco watched as his father roughly pulled the boy forwards, who was now a little startled and wide eyed, and lifted the end of his silver, serpent walking stick to brush aside a dark strand of hair that covered the boy's forehead. Instantly, Draco knew who this boy was. The lightning shaped scar on the left side of his head ignited a memory in the blonde's brain. _Oh yes, _he thought, _Harry Potter. The 'boy-who-lived'. _It was all Draco had heard about the past couple of months. Rumour that Harry would be attending Hogwarts had ignited some sort of panic in his parent's minds. He wasn't quite sure why, but went along with the sense of despise they had for him.

"Well, if it isn't _the boy who lived_," Draco heard his father murmur.

He glanced at him, and noticed his mother whispering quietly in his ear. The two looked apprehensively at Harry, and then his father released the grip he had on the boys hand. Draco noticed Harry's eyes flicker to him, as his father regained his grip on his sons shoulder and dismissed the Weasleys and co. With his best scowl, Draco glared at Harry, and each of the red-heads in turn, before turning, and continuing down the cobbled paths of Diagon Alley. They had taken no more than four steps, before Draco felt his father lean down to his height, and whisper from behind him,

"You do not associate with that boy, or that family, do you understand me, Draco?"

Though barely above a whisper, his father's voice was intimidating and stern. Draco glanced behind him at his mother, who was watching on with slight worry gracing her beautiful, silver eyes. The young boy would do anything to please his parents. He had once or twice gotten on the bad side of his father, and it was a period of time he never wished to return to, intentionally, again. His mother had never intimidated Draco like his father did, but her feelings of disappointment and shame concerning her son was enough to ensure Draco never had those emotions pressed upon him again. He loved his mother, dearly, and he was very grateful of his father, too. He did not want to disappoint them. They were admirable in Draco's eyes, and he would do anything to achieve the respect they had from other wizards and witches, even if that meant doing everything they say.

As his mother's stare lingered on Draco in expectancy, he took a deep swallow and nodded.

"Yes, father," he said, and received a reassuring pat roughly on his shoulder.

* * *

Draco very much liked books. Flourish and Blott's was his favourite shop in Diagon Alley. It was graced with every book one could ever wish for. From '_How to Successfully pull a Mandrake' _to '_The Tales of a Giant Slayer_'. As he made his way inside the small shop in the center of the street, he felt a warm sense of happiness swoop over him. The young boy was oblivious, as his mother pulled out the sheet of parchment, which was attached to his acceptance letter, with a list of his required books written on it. Instead, he made his way over to a large bookshelf beside the door, which was not occupied by parents feverishly looking.

There was a large library in Malfoy Mannor, that Draco was thankful of. He did not have a lot of friends, if any, and growing up as a single child got a little boring from time to time. By his current age, thirteen, Draco had read nearly every book in the library that was worth reading. His mother had even bought him some muggle books, which he was sworn to secrecy about, and was told if his father were to find out, that it probably wouldn't do either of them any good. He quite liked muggle books. He especially liked the ones about fantasy witches and wizards that were made out to be strange, odd looking old men and women, who lived in caves or castles. Their inaccuracy and stereotypical nature made Draco laugh.

As Draco skimmed his long, pale fingers along the spines of the ancient books on the shelves, he came across one he had not read before. Sliding the thick, leather bound spine away from the ones beside it, he took the book in his hands and read the title_, 'Hogwarts: A History._' The young Malfoy supposed it only beneficial if he were to read upon on the place he would be spending the next seven years of his life, and as he had not read the book before, Draco was more than happy with his choice. He turned, searching the bustling crowd of people for his parents, who, afterall, were not that hard to identify.

Draco noticed his mother and father talking to two, oddly dressed, plain looking adults. He made his way over to them, cautious of their new acquaintances. When his father finally noticed him approaching, he forced a handsome smile, and held out his hand.

"Right on queue," he announced, taking Draco's shoulder once more and placing him proudly between himself and his wife, "My son, Draco."

Draco held tightly onto the book in his arms, and forced some sort of smile, that mainly came across as a sneer. He eyed the two people before him, who looked something along the lines of overwhelmed and frightened. Draco could not blame them. His family were not exactly ones to pass by. Draco's father had long, platinum blonde hair, and very pale blue eyes which complimented his pale skintone. His mother had hair much like his father's, though half of it a deep black shade. Her skin was pale and marble-esque too, much like Draco's. His hair was of a similar platinum colour to his parents, and was slicked back neatly. All of them wore dark coloured robes. Black, if not a deep shade of green or purple, and beautifully fitted and styled.

They were quite a sight compared to their new friends, who wore some strange, long denim pants, weirdly shaped laced up shoes and knitted garments zipped up over their torso. Draco could not help but quirk an eyebrow at their curious fashion. He noticed the lady, who was rather pretty, though plain, with brown hair and brown eyes, give him a faint smile in return.

"This is Mr and Mrs Granger," his father announced, gesturing to the people before them, "They're muggles. Their daughter, Hermione, is a witch, and will be attending Hogwarts alongside you, Draco."

Mrs Granger placed a comforting arm around a small girl who Draco had not noticed stood beside them. He glanced at her, and felt a genuine smile creep across his face. Her hair was wild, and thick with bushy curls. It was quite a contrast compared to Draco's slick hair, but he liked it's untamed style. It was rather unique. She had brown eyes, like her mother, which gleamed with enthusiasm and excitement as she eyed Draco and his family. She wore strange clothes, like her parents, but Draco did not care. Something about her energy and presence excited Draco. Her careless appearance combined with her large, perfectly straight smile made his stomach somersault.

"Nice to meet you, Draco," she said, and her light voice was almost as intriguing as she was.

Draco politely released one hand from his book, and held it out for her to shake. She took it with a firm grisp, and talked in a hushed voice,

"I apologize for my hand being a little clammy," she said, her tone laced with amusement, "It's all slightly overwhelming."

A sincere chuckled escaped Draco's smiling mouth, as he shook her hand briefly. It seemed as though her careless attitude went alongside her appearance. She was the first person who did not seem to be intimidated nor phased by Draco and his family. He supposed this was because they were muggles, well, her parents, and were oblivious to the connection they had made with his family which was in a high place.

"Toughen up, Granger," he released her hand, which she withdrew with a small chirp of laughter. The name Granger seemed to be more suiting to her informal attitude, and so Draco assigned it as her nickname. The two chuckled slightly, and followed their parents as the wizarding pair began to assist the muggles with their shopping trip that day. Draco took it upon himself to show Hermione around Diagon Alley, still completely bewildered by her confidence and cheerful attitude. She had a positive effect over him, and Draco had to admit he liked being in her company. She was the first friend he ever had, and was very fond of her at that.


	2. Friendship Vows

**Reunited; Chapter Two.**

Friendship Vows.

* * *

"Be back by supper!" Narcissa called, lingering in the doorway of Malfoy Mannor as she greeted her guests, and watcher her son and his friend begin to race down the courtyard.

"We will!" Draco replied, as he ran alongside his bestfriend, turning the sharp corner, down the side of his house, and into his back garden.

Hermione ran alongside him, her wild hair flowing behind her grinning face in the wind. Draco glanced at her as the two carried out their normal race to the end of the garden. His eyes instantly met her hazely-brown ones as they gleamed in challenge. She gave a small squeal of a giggle, and Draco found himself laughing in return. As he noticed Hermione begin to take the lead, Draco ran at full force as the two neared the black iron fence dividing his house from the rest of the world. Reaching out a strained hand, in a fashion much like the girl beside him, Draco latched onto the fence and stopped, instantly yelling,

"I win!"

Hermione announced the same thing at precisely the moment her friend had done, and giggled in response.

"No," she said, attempting to sound authoritative between gasps for breath, "_I _win."

"No, I win!" Draco mocked her, receiving a light shove from Hermione, which he returned a little more forcefully.

It was a dismal day. The sky was grey, and loomed pessimistically over the optimism of the friends playing. There was a slight chill in the air, and both Draco and Hermione's cheeks were flushed with a redness caused by the fresh outdoors. Hermione was still wearing her muggle clothes, and Draco wore the most informal thing he could find. He was very glad of his friend's company. The two had bonded so quickly over the duration of the Granger's visits to the Malfoy home, that Draco almost felt a limb or something was missing when Hermione was not around. It was just another day the two were spending together, and they continued to shove eachother playfully, growing with slight aggression each time.

"Ow!" Hermione finally cried, clutching her shoulder with a a furrowed brow.

Draco instantly lost his grin, and placed a cool hand over Hermione's. He felt his stomach knot a little, realising he'd hurt her in their competitiveness. That was something that was great about their friendship. They brought out the best in eachother.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he apologised feverishly, but stopped as he noticed the girl begin to giggle.

"I'm just joking, Draco," she said, swatting away his hand and leaning against the fence, attempting to catch her breath.

"-And don't ever call me Hermione again, you sound like my mum or dad," she laughed, rolling her head to glance at Draco.

The blonde smirked in return, and leant against the fence much like she had done.

"Whatever, Granger," Draco laughed, sliding down the iron behind him and sitting carelessly on the grass.

A few moments later, Hermione sat next to him gracefully with a sigh. She looked up to the clouds, and Draco watched her with a small smile curling his lips. He watched as she closed her eyes gently, and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Hermione had taught Draco to appreciate the outdoors and it's beauty. He had also learn't that she was a bookworm, and tended to tease her for it, even though he knew he was the same himself. Yet despite her academic side, and Draco could tell she was very smart, Hermione was a tearaway, and the two of them began to push the rules and become reckless together.

Hermione opened her eyes and turned to look at Draco. She smiled with that devilish grin than she always had when they were together.

"So what are we doing today?" she asked, unphased by her bestfriend's analyzing on her.

"I was thinking we weren't quite finished with Creepy Bill," Draco smirked, recieving a small giggle from the girl beside him.

Creepy Bill was an old muggle who lived over the fence from Draco. One day, he and Hermione were feeling extra adventurous, and climbed the fence, releasing themselves to the muggle world on the other side. Hermione, being from muggle descendants, knew a lot about the typical London streets, and guided Draco through it. The two discovered the old man cutting a hedge in his front garden. He was tall, and dilapidated, with a hooked nose and long grey beard. All his clothes were shabby and old, which reminded Draco vaguely of the Weasley family he'd met in Diagon Alley, the same day he'd met Hermione. That was almost a month ago, and Draco could remember it just like it was yesterday. Creepy Bill eyed the two children as they clambered out of the bushes that separated Draco's garden from the side of his house. He eyed the blonde boy with a strange expression, clearly confused by his black outfit and black robes.

"Hallowe'en was months ago," he said, in a coarse, shaky voice, "Go home kiddies and stop causing trouble."

Draco knew exactly what Hallowe'en was, and Hermione had briefly explained how muggles dress up as witches and wizards and other things, collecting candy from people on their street. The blonde couldn't quite understand the point in the process, but was happy to listen to Hermione regardless. He frowned as he watched his bestfriend scold the old man for talking in such a way. When the old man had gotten a little agitated, and almost chased the two down the street with his sheers, Hermione and Draco laughed hysterically as they disappeared back into the bushes.

Today, however, they had planned to take revenge. As the pair excitedly stood from the floor, and began to climb the fence, they laughed with nervousness and enthusiasm. Once they released the fence, falling the small drop and landing on the overgrown bushes, the two hid behind a particularly tall one, and Draco withdrew his wand.

"Draco!" Hermione whispered, "You know you're not meant to do magic outside of school!"

"We haven't even gone to school yet," he sighed, "It'll be fine, Granger, trust me."

That mischievous grin returned to his friend's face, and Draco felt his stomach flutter much like the first time he'd met her at Flourish and Blott's. He held out his wand, and aimed it precisely at the sheers Creepy Bill had left on his wall. Draco had been practicing, and knew the simplest of spells his father had taught him.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, receiving a look of admiration from Hermione.

Hermione considered Draco one of the smartest people she knew. She liked his company, because he was very similar to her in many ways. How she admired Draco and his highly respected, all wizard family. The girl watched with divine interest as the sheers began to levitate and float towards Creepy Bill, who was sat on his doorstep. Once the daft bat noticed the floating objects, his eyes instantly widened, as he looked around himself in shock. He reached for the tools, but Draco swiftly moved them from his grasp. Hermione began to laugh rather hysterically at the old mans attempts. Draco pulled her head closely, and rather roughly, towards his chest, clamping her mouth with his hand in attempt to silence her. She gripped his hand with hers, but could not pull it away. Draco was finding it hard to contain his laughter too, as he tried to focus on making a fool out of Creepy Bill. For some reason, Draco felt the need to impress Hermione. He liked it when she looked up to him, like she worshipped him as a friend. Just as the old man was about to jump off his front step to reach the sheers, Draco felt Hermione bite sharply on his hand.

"Ouch!" He cried, breaking into laughter as the sheers fell from his spell.

Both he and Hermione were in tears and fits of laughter, shoving eachother and pressing their fingers to their lips, with loud _Shhh!'s. _The laughing subsided, however, when Draco noticed Creepy Bill's head poke round from the side of his house.

"You two!" He spat, with a strong sense of distaste to his voice as the old man spotted the children hiding in the bushes.

Draco instantly slid away his wand, and took Hermione's hand tightly in his. He dragged the hysterical girl behind him, laughing himself, as the crazy old man followed them once again, threateningly with his sheers.

"I'll get you two!" He cried, as the pair of them rustled through the tall bushes, running as quickly as their feet could take them to the fence.

Once they finally reached it, and Creepy Bill was turning the corner after them, Draco and Hermione's adrenaline was rushing. They had never had such a humorous thrill in their lives. Bending to give the smaller girl a lift, Draco helped his friend as she placed her foot on his hand, and swung over the fence. He then clambered against the iron himself, feeling Hermione's steadying hands support him as he dismounted over the other side.

"You two tyrants, wait till I tell your parents. You bloody gypsies, you.. you- you wizards and witches!"

Crazy Bills threats were distant now, and Draco and Hermione merely laughed at his anger. Draco slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder, much like an older brother would do, and the two waved with flushed, beaming faces in the direction they'd just come. Their breath was coming in short rasps after the excitement, and both of them collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion. As they lay on their backs, hand in hand, with only the rustle of the bushes and the sounds of their breathing to fill the cool air, Hermione smiled, releasing another laugh. She rolled her head against the grass in Draco's direction.

"You're a bad influence on me," she mused, her voice still lined with amusement.

Draco merely faced her in return, and gave a signature smirk, much like Hermione's, which she had picked up from him. It was true. Hermione had turned into a reckless tyrant, and the two of them were nothing more than a pair of careless children looking for fun and excitement. The girl's hair was wilder than ever, and her face and clothes slightly dirty from climbing through the foliage. Draco didn't mind though. He liked Hermione when she was up for fun, and wasn't intimidated by him or his family. She didn't care that he was a prudent, rude, stuck up pureblood, and she was a muggle born. The two knew each other merely for who they really were, and didn't think any different. They were inseparable.


	3. Realization

**Reunited; Chapter Three.**

Realization.

* * *

Excitement and nervousness laced the air, which was sharp and cool, settling over the highlands. Students after students, new and existing, filed off the Hogwarts express, with awestruck faces. In the dimly lit station platform, Hermione and Draco hopped off the train, and stood on the ground in admiration. There was a humble glow to the atmosphere, as flickering lanterns lined the edge of the platform. The bejeweled, black night sky was illuminated by a large moon which seemed to glow behind the silhouette of a tall, occupied castle. Draco felt Hermione's hand slide gently into his, and he gave it a squeeze re-assuringly. She glanced at his pale face, which seemed to glow in the moonlight, and felt her nervousness subside as she noticed his small smile. He turned to return her gaze, and looked down the little difference tin their heights, into her nervous face.

"It's just another adventure," he nodded, "Don't be scared."

Hermione felt his cool hand pat her head gently, and she laughed, swatting it away.

"I'm not scared!" she said, lifting her chin into the air with confidence, but she and Draco could not ignore the anxiousness brewing inside them.

Draco stumbled a little, as he felt someone roughly barge past him. He turned, greeted by the familiar freckled face and glasses of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Ron looked a little worried at their aggressive move towards Draco, and ushered Harry to continue. But the dark haired wizard merely stared back into the scowling face of Draco.

"Malfoy," he said, greeting the boy civilly.

"Potter," Draco replied, a strong sense of distaste in his tone.

The red head dragged Harry's arm roughly, pulling him away from Draco. The blonde watched their retreating figures, a scowl still lingering on his face.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked, standing on her tiptoes as if to see from Draco's height.

"No one," Draco turned, pressing Hermione's shoulders as she returned to her normal height, "You don't want to know."

"Did you say Potter? As in _Harry _Potter?" Hermione questioned, wide eyed and in awe.

"How do you know about him?" Draco growled, but his anger never seemed to have any effect on Hermione. She was far too used to him, and knew he was all talk and no bite.

"Your parents told my parents about him, and they told me," she said, as if it were obvious, "Is that really him though, is it?!"

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned. He took Hermione's wrist, and pulled her through the crowd, following the echoing sound of '_Firs' years this way!_' which seemed to be not too from them. The girl followed him, now feeling more excited than nervous. Draco felt sick. If it wasn't his nerves, it was definitely the fact that Hermione seemed so taken by the infamous 'boy-who-lived'. A couple of witches and wizards glanced apprehensively at Draco as they weaved through the crowd, but he ignored them completely. Finally, when they reached the edge of a long platform, and came face to face with the edge of a bleak, dark lake, that separated them from the castle, the two halted.

"Come on now, climb in. There won' be much food left if yer don', mind," a loud voice echoed behind Hermione and Draco.

They turned in unison, and were greeted by a large face, which was covered mostly by untamed, dark black hair that seemed to matt together in certain places. The broad man had black, beetle-like eyes which gleamed in the moonlight. The pair exchanged cautious glances, and hurried into a free, small, oak boat that was waiting at the side of the pier. Once everyone was in a boat of some sort, Draco and Hermione felt an invisible force begin to push them through the mellow tides, towards that large castle that seemed to be looming over them. A thrill of excitement now ran through both their veins, as they glanced at each other. Draco had that smug smirk on his face, Hermione had become used to, and she had that devilish grin that Draco had ignited in her. He felt his stomach flutter, like the time he had met her in Flourish and Blotts, and the time they had sat against the fence in his back garden.

* * *

They were lined up in a large huddle at the front of an impressive hall. Existing students were sat along very long tables, which each had different colours adorning them. There was a red one, a green one, and yellow one, and a blue one. Draco noticed the familiar faces of the twinned red-heads, and another, more superior looking one beside them. _Another offspring? _He thought, as his year filed in from outside, _That Weasley woman needs a hobby. _Draco was snapped from his thoughts when a stern voice with a broad, Scottish accent broke the silence.

"Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts. This is the sorting hat," the old woman gestured, through half moon spectacles. Beside her sat a shabby looking wizard's hat, that looked as though it belonged in the Weasley home. Draco huffed in amusement, and noticed Hermione turn with an amused expression.

"-This house with sort you into one of the four houses we have at Hogwarts; be it Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin."

A small smile curled onto Draco's lips as he heard the last name called. Both his parents had been in Slytherin, and most of their friends. He was more than confident he would be placed in that house. As the old woman let the sorting ceremony commence, the students stood briefly, and were greeted by a song which seemed to be coming from a mouth, deep in the folds of the hat.

"_Oh, you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
_Set Gryffindors apart;_  
_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
_Where they are just and loyal,_  
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
_And unafraid of toil;_  
_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
_if you've a ready mind,_  
_Where those of wit and learning,_  
_Will always find their kind;_  
_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
_You'll make your real friends,_  
_Those cunning folks use any means_  
_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
_And don't get in a flap!_  
_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_  
_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_"

There was a large round of applause that broke out around the room from alot of the students. A familiar giggle was heard from beside him, as Draco noticed Hermione's amusement in the song. He chuckled to himself too, and allowed it to subside as the old witch in half moon spectacles began to call the first name. Immediately, Hermione's hand was back in Draco's, and it was clammy, like the first time he had shook her hand in Flourish and Blotts. She was nervous, he could tell, and probably a little overwhelemed too. Where had the time gone? Draco couldn't recall the short month going so quickly as he spent his days with his best friend. It felt merely a second since he first spoke to her, and the first time his parent's invited her and her mother and father to their house. In a fashion much like beforehand, Draco squeezed Hermione's small hand firmly, and shuffled a little closer.

"Abbot, Hannah," the old woman called, and Draco noticed a small girl with blonde hair shuffled up to the stood which the Sorting Hat was rested upon. The Scottish woman took the hat, and allowed the young girl to sit, placing it back firmly on her head. There was a brief and quiet mumbling, emitting from the hat's 'mouth', before it paused.

"Hufflepuff!" it cried, and there was a large cheer from a table in particular, all who had yellow ties and crests on their robes.

"Adalia, Linlee" the woman listed, as another girl walked up towards the stool.

"Gryffindor!" the hat cried, and there was another round of applause.

Time was going far too quickly for Hermione's liking. She took a deep breath. _Alice, Tolipan. Ardovini, Selene. Arnold, Raymond. Berdine, Nita. Beringer, Adam. Bodgan, Beringer. Bones, Susan. Boot, Terry. Brocklehurst, Mandy. _Surely, and soon enough, they were down to G, and Hermione's stomach was churning ever so slightly.

"Goyle, Gregory," the old woman called, and a fat, beastly looking boy waddled up to the seat. The hat was placed on his head and it took no longer than a couple of seconds to sort him.

"Slytherin!" it cried, and there was a large roar of applause for the boy.

"Granger, Hermione."

Suddenly, Draco found it almost impossible to release his hand from hers. She looked at his face, with his expression unreadable and vacant, and tugged her hand from his grip. He began to worry, as she weaved out of the crowd, her large, untamed hair, surrounding her anxious face. What was he worrying about? _She's just like me. I've never met someone so like me before, _Draco thought. It was true. The two had everything in common. As she sat gently on the stool, and surveyed the large audience, Hermione felt positively sick.

"Hmm," the hat mused, "Smart, very smart. Cunning, ambitious, sounds like a Slytherin. But, alas, what is this? Bravery? Pride? Ah. No. I must be mistaken-"

Draco's fingers were crossed so tightly and his breath held for so long he felt as though he might pass out.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted, and Hermione's furrowed brow and tightly shut eyes, instantly flew open and relaxed. She hopped from the stool with a large grin, as there was an applause echoing from the room. Draco's heart sank. He eyed the girl as she glanced at him, and pounded her fist mouthing '_Yes!_'. He felt his eyelids flutter as he attempted to force a smile at her happiness. But she had disappeared onto the table alongside the Weasleys. Draco did not hear any other names being called. He knew he would be placed in Slytherin. There was not a chance he would be a Gryffindor, but even if there was, his parent's would not approve. He stared bleakly at the ground, oblivious to everything going on around him. Everything had changed now. Gryffindors and Slytherins couldn't be friends! That's not how it works! His father had told him exactly everything about each house and their rivalry, and there was no way that Gryffindors would accept him being friends with the girl he had felt he'd know all his life.

"Malfoy, Draco," a voice distantly called.

Draco glanced up, but he was not aware of what was going on. He felt a had push behind him, as he stumbled forwards and suddenly remembered exactly where he was. Sitting upon the stool, he could see just how many people were watching on. The whole school was gathered, and Draco began to feel rather sick at the thought. He had never been one for big crowds. As the hat was rested upon his head, he noticed Hermione, sat beside the three older Weasleys, looking on with more of a happier expression than the scowls of the red-heads. His gaze lingered on her optimistic face, whilst the hat whispered down his ear.

"Well, well, well. Another Malfoy. Yes, I'm sensing cunning. I'm sensing ambition. I'm sensing intelligence. Well, this was the easiest sort of the night,"

He swallowed deeply,

"Slytherin!"

There was a round of applause Hermione noticed to be larger than any she had heard before. She glanced to he Slytherin table and noticed a few students stood, clapping enthusiastically as Draco hopped down from the stool and made his way over to his house with a slight smile. Hermione clapped happily. She knew Draco would be placed in Slytherin. He had told her how it was a family tradition, and she did not expect any different. With a large smile, she continued clapping until he sat beside the large boy, who Hermione recalled being called Goyle or something, and glanced at Hermione. She gave him a reassuring grin, but he merely curled half of his lips into a half suppressed smile. In that moment, Hermione did not understand why Draco was the way he was. She didn't understand that this had completely changed everything, and that she may aswell of forgotten their friendship then and there. Instead, she turned to watch the ceremony continue.

* * *

It was a growing feeling of anguish Draco wished he could subside. He sat, as everyone began to eat and enjoy the festivities, and watched intently, as his best friend sat across the hall from him. The wild haired girl sat beside Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, of all people, and seemed to be talking animatedly to both of them. Draco's heart raced with anger. He'd told her not to associate with the two of them. But Hermione didn't listen to Draco. He wasn't her parents, and she wasn't scared of him either. He clutched his fork tightly as he noticed her burst into laughter. That laughter she had only ever released due to him. Her gazed wandered from the red-head sat infront of her, through the gap between his shoulder and Harry's, meeting Draco's stare. That large, nose-wrinkled smile Draco had loved, greeted him, but he felt completely and utterly sick. He couldn't look at her, knowing she was friends with _them. _Knowing she was a Gryffindor. Instead, he looked away, leaving Hermione gazing at him with a confused expression. This changed everything.


	4. The Final Words

**Reunited; Chapter Four.**

The Final Words.

* * *

It was early October, and Draco was walking through the Grounds with his robes hugged tightly around him. Alongside was Hermione, who was sporting a red and gold striped scarf, much too alike her Gryffindor house. Draco eyed it with distaste, as he wore his green and silver version. There was still that constant reminder that they were separated. The two had been meeting up to discuss their lives for a while, but Draco couldn't help but sense Hermione fading away, slipping through his fingers and drifting. She'd been spending a lot of time with Potter and Weasley, much to his chagrin, and it did not sit well with Draco knowing that. His father has specifically told him _not _to associate with the both of them, and what Draco couldn't do, he wanted Hermione not to do either.

"I don't so much like the outdoors," he heard the girl beside him mutter.

"What?!" Draco cried, eyeing her incredulously as they walked along the edge of the lake, like they usually did, "You were the person who taught me to appreciate the outdoors and everything it has to offer. What's wrong with you?"

Hermione sighed.

"I'd just much rather be inside, in the library or something, it's quiet in there and I like it."

"That Potter and Weasel are having a bad effect on you," Draco mused, pronouncing both of their names with a tone of distaste.

Hermione stopped immediately and stared at her friend with a furrowed brow.

"His names Ron _Weasley, _not Weasel! And they're very nice, if you must know!" she attempted to keep her voice calm but Draco could sense the angry undertone.

"I don't want you hanging around with them, Hermione!" Draco continued walking, leaving Hermione straddling behind him.

"I told you not to call me Hermione!" she said, her voice echoing over the lake and in the cool, silent breeze, "Why can't I be friends with both of you?"

Draco stopped, and Hermione stopped beside him. He gazed down, now having grown a little, and looked into her slightly flushed face. It reminded him of the time's they'd play in his garden in the cold, and race down the grass and courtyard. But it wasn't the same girl he was looking at. Hermione didn't have that devilish grin anymore. She didn't have that presence and confidence that had Draco so intrigued the first time he met her. She was different.

"Because you're not the girl I thought I knew. You're not the girl who messed with Creepy Bill. You're not the girl who ran through the fields near my house, trying to scare me by hiding. Now you just read all the time. And _study,_" Draco said the last bit with a little more distaste, "And whenever you're around Potter and his sidekick you're all.. _girly _and giggles- and not Hermione."

Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pursed in a disapproving manner Draco had noticed Hermione had acquired recently.

"Maybe because I _am _a girl!" She cried, "And messing with helpless muggles like that is just wrong! You could've exposed magic and had us both in trouble-"

"-Since when did you care about trouble?" Draco was feeling more angry than he'd expected. His fists were clenched and as brow was knit in frustration. "Last time I remembered, that's what we used to go looking for!"

"Well I don't want to anymore! Harry and Ron can have fun without causing disruption, and I like that!" Hermione admitted, folding her arms angrily.

"Well, why are you here with me then? Go and run along to your little friends and play exploding snap or whatever you do!"

Hermione felt the tears prick her eyes carelessly. She blinked, attempting to hold them at bay. She'd never argued with Draco, they never had anything to argue over. But now that she was, she found she didn't like it. As she watched what once was her bestfriend, turn and walk away from her, she couldn't help but run after him. Reaching out a cold hand, she grabbed the boys arm in attempt to stop him. Draco turned furiously, shrugging off her grip a little more roughly than she'd anticipated.

"We can still be friends! I'm still Granger! I'm still Hermione!" she cried, but Draco didn't care. He had a sneer that she'd only ever seen him have for everyone but her. Now, it was merely the two of them, and she knew that look of distaste was meant for her and only her.

"No, you're not, you've changed," he said, in a low, intimidating voice, "I wouldn't be your friend now, if you were the last person on earth."

"You don't scare me, Draco," she glowered, but in that moment, she was a little scared. She wasn't sure whether this was fear of losing him, or fear of Draco himself.

"I should do," he growled, standing closely and towering over her, "You and your ungrateful, stupid, muggle parents. It'd ruin my family reputation if it got out we were helping people like _you. _I don't know what I ever saw in you. You're just a pathetic, filthy-"

Draco was looking for the right word that would hurt her like she'd unintentionally hurt him. He wanted her to feel the pain and the upset like she'd put him through! He'd heard his father mutter a certain word concerning muggles and muggle-borns before when he was angry, but wasn't quite sure how severe it was. In that moment, he didn't care. Hermione had taken his heart and ripped it out of his chest. He cared for her! He had a bond with her that he'd never made with anyone else, though he despised himself for it. It was not the Malfoy thing to care for anyone other than yourself. But he'd thought Hermione was different. He could hear the word ringing in his ears, begging to escape on the tip of his tongue.

"_Mudblood,_" he spat, and turned, striding away by the side of the lake, leaving Hermione in the winter chill.

The word had shot straight to her heart. It was like a thousand knives piercing the surface, slashing at the invisible barrier keeping her from crying, as the tears began to stream down her face. She'd read about that word in _Hogwarts: A History_, which Draco had leant her. She sobbed as she watched the only real friend she'd ever made, walk away from her. She called his name with a shaky, devastated voice, and he could hear her shrill cries. But it took all his might not to run back and comfort her like the older brother he had always been to her. The lump in his throat began to grow as he walked away from the only real thing he'd ever had in his life. Away from the memories and the person she once was. But she wasn't the same. And Draco knew he couldn't be friends with her, knowing she was friends with _them. _He didn't want to disappoint his family. The only person now, he was disappointing, was himself. He could live with that; the heavy heart and the system shutdown of anything feelings in his body. It didn't matter about his feelings. He had to do what was right. As the wind whipped at his bare skin, he felt himself breaking away from the only person he'd ever loved apart from his family, who he was inclined to.

That was the day Hermione had her heart broken, by someone she never thought she would

And that was the day Draco Malfoy became immune to any feelings of compassion he had for someone other than himself.

The limb that he felt was lost when she was not around, was instead ripped from him completely, and replaced with something stronger, more desensitized, leaving no trace that she had ever been there. From then on, Hermione Granger had no idea how her life would change.


End file.
